What equal hon­ors shall we bring
To Thee, O Lord our God, the Lamb,
When all the notes that an­gels sing
Are far in­fe­ri­or to Thy name?

Worthy is He that once was slain,
The Prince of Peace that groaned and died;
Worthy to rise, and live, and reign
At His al­migh­ty Fa­ther’s side.

Power and do­min­ion are His due
Who stood con­demned at Pi­late’s bar;
Wisdom be­longs to Je­sus, too,
Though He was charged with mad­ness here.

All riches are His na­tive right,
Yet He sus­tained amaz­ing loss;
To him ascribe eter­nal might,
Who left His weak­ness on the cross.

Honor im­mor­tal must be paid,
Instead of scan­dal and of scorn;
While glo­ry shines around His head,
And bright­est crown, with­out a thorn.

Blessings for­ev­er on the Lamb
Who bore the curse for wretch­ed men;
Let an­gels sound His sac­red name,
And ev­ery crea­ture say, Amen.